Metamorphosis Through Anguish
by Nonnihil Scelestus
Summary: Hermione loses her parents in her 3rd year, many changes ensue that bring her closer to the wizarding world. Will have romance in later chapters from an unexpected source.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

**Metamorphosis Through Anguish**

**Chapter 1**

She stared dejectedly at the letter in her hands. She could read the words scrawled across it, but couldn't comprehend their meaning. Every time she tried to read it, some part of her balked, and wouldn't allow the message to sink it. Her world was slowly disintegrating and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She felt herself sinking onto her bed, and the pressure of a hand guiding her there. She looked up into the eyes of her favorite professor, and felt the true meaning of her loss settle around her like a lead cloak, weighing her down in the sea of her life. The tears that had been mysteriously absent in the wake of her shock came full force, running in torrents from her eyes, and stinging her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but nothing would emerge from her throat. The only thought that was left in her head was "Why?" and it did little to assuage her grief.

She felt warm arms come around her and press her face into an equally warm shoulder and chest. She sobbed, until her throat burned, and her eyes burned and her cheeks burned, to match the horrible aching burn in her heart.

Professor McGonagall stared down at her young charge, running her hands over her hair and down her back. It was bad enough to lose ones parents, and only family to the ravages of time. But to lose them in a senseless act was so much worse because of the abrupt nature of their departure from the land of the living. The Professor did her best to comfort the young girl in her arms, but she knew in her heart that there was little she could do for her favorite student, but to offer the solace of her embrace, and ride out the tears. She sighed in resignation over the girl. The loss of her parents would echo in her life for many years to come, and she hoped that the girl in her arms would still have her spark when all was said and done.

"Why?" She heard a small voice ask, barely reaching her ears.

"I don't know, Hermione." She answered. It was an unsatisfactory answer to give the girl. She should know why her parents died. She should know the reason that had been stolen from her in such an abrupt fashion. She should have the answers to all her questions.

"Why?" She heard the girl ask again, but knew better than to answer. It was the grief talking, as she tried to reason out the newest change in her life. The Professor sighed again. There was nothing she could do, and she hated helplessness more than some many other things.

It was some hours later, her arms, aching from holding the girl, that she realized Hermione had fallen asleep. She felt the girls even breathing and looked down at her. The edges of her eyes, beneath her eyelashes were raw, like her cheeks, from the salty tears that had coursed their way down her face. Just as she started to ease her embrace, so as to lay her charge back into her bed, the Headmaster appeared in the doorway.

"Minerva." He said softly, so as not to wake the girl.

"Yes, Albus?" He looked so old in that moment, and while he was quite aged, he'd never appeared so until that moment.

"I do not think it was to leave Miss Granger in her dormitory tonight. She will not handle the questions well." She nodded. It had been her thinking to stay with the girl until she either woke, or could be maneuvered to another location.

"I agree. I'm afraid that Miss Granger is a little bit heavy for me to carry these days. I'm getting old, Albus." She smiled sadly up at her dearest friend and husband. "However if you cast a Feather Weight Charm on her, I should be able to manage quite easily." He nodded and waved his wand over the girl, who continued to sleep the exhausted sleep of the grief stricken. Her two young companions appeared in the doorway next to the Headmaster.

"Is Hermione alright?" Harry Potter asked. His ginger shadow, Ron Weasley stayed silent, but nodded along with the question.

"No, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley. Miss Granger has just been informed that her parents were killed." Ron's face held shock. He had yet to experience true grief in his life. Harry on the other hand looked grim. He, while just as young as his two friends, knew all to well the ravages of grief and the marks that it left on a persons heart and soul. He sighed in understanding.

"Will you be moving her somewhere else? As much as we would like to be with her, she shouldn't be here in the dorm." Harry asked. He was extremely understanding of what she was going through. Albus rested a hand on the boy's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. It had always amazed her how the boy managed to act like a child one moment and seemingly so adult the next.

"Yes. I will be moving her to some rooms near the Headmaster's office and my own quarters. I agree, she does not need to be in the Tower tonight." Professor McGonagall answered him. He nodded in acceptance and headed back down to the Common Room. He knew there was little he could do for his friend when the Professor was already taking care of her. "Albus." She prompted. The Headmaster nodded and led the way. She scooped up the sleeping girl, still under the charm and carried her down the stairs and out of the Tower.

Professor McGonagall followed the Headmaster into a set of quarters that joined their own living space. Albus pulled back the covers on a bed and she layed the girl in it. Hermione whimpered in her sleep and suddenly wrapped her arms around Minerva's neck, refusing to release her. She felt the girl's hot tears against her neck and felt her own pricking at her eyes in sympathy. Albus pulled off the girl's shoes and Minerva sat on the bed with her. She knew it was going to be a long night. Albus pulled the covers over both of them and kissed Minerva's cheek, before going up to his office.

Minerva cuddled the girl to her side, brushing her unruly curls from her face, before rubbing her back. She felt more than her the soft hiccupping coming from Hermione as her tears started to subside.

"What will I do now, Professor? I have no one." The girl's voice was so soft.

"You have me." She answered. She hadn't meant for it to come out of her mouth, but it did. She and Albus had tried so many times over their years together, but they had never been graced with children. Over the years that she had been a professor, she'd managed to stay aloof from her students. However there had been a few that wormed their way into her heart. The last had been Severus Snape, and the newest was the girl in her arms, Hermione Granger. "You'll always have me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Metamorphosis Through Anguish**

**Chapter 2**

When Hermione woke, she was in an unfamiliar place. She tried to recall what had brought her to her current location. The memories from the night before came crashing in on her. She felt a lump rise in her throat, but the hot tears that had previously burned her eyes, didn't come. She had drained herself of tears, but not of the painful emotions that were still stabbing at her heart and mind. She shifted slightly and realized that a warm arm was still resting around her back and that a warm shoulder lay under her cheek. She peered up through her hair to see the face of her favorite professor beside, her face relaxed in sleep. Something warmed her heart to learn that the woman who was so strict in her classroom had spent all night make sure she had the comfort she had so desperately needed.

Hermione sat up and looked around, taking in the room. It was tastefully decorated in creams and chocolate browns, with small splashes of color in the form of red and purple. There were bookshelves in one corner, near a large bay window with a window seat, and surrounded by plush wingback chairs. There was a blazing fireplace across from the bed, and a table big enough to seat four in the far corner. She saw doors on either side of the bed, and another two on the far wall, one near the fireplace and one behind the table. Hermione paused her perusal of the room and disentangled herself from the blankets and Minerva's arm. She rolled gently off the bed, so as not to wake the older woman and went to see which of the doors led to a bathroom. The first held a closet, but on her second attempt she found a sumptuous bathing area of cream and gold marble. She made quick use of the facilities, but not quick enough to return before Minerva woke. The Professor sighed in relief to see her emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later.

Professor McGonagall took in the Hermione's features with a sad gaze. Her eyes were still red, and full of emotion, but she'd scrubbed the dried tear tracks from her cheeks. She watched as she went over to stare out the window onto the castle grounds.

"Professor?" Her voice was still soft, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, Hermione?" She answered coming to stand next to her charge.

"What will happen to me? I have no family to go to. I don't know how to arrange for a funeral or what to do with our house, or their business. I'm so scared!" The tears that had been absent when she first woke came rushing back in a torrent. Minerva gathered her into her arms and held her close as she sobbed. When her tears had subsided, she ushered them over to the chairs, near the fire.

"I have three options for you, Hermione, if you think you're ready to hear them." The girl nodded, gazing at her through her anguish. She held her gaze for a minute as if to gauge her readiness for herself. "The first option is to become a ward of the Ministry, and they will place you with a family, much like the Muggle foster system."

"No!" She said vehemently, the first forceful and strong thing she'd said since the news of her parent's death had first reached her. Minerva nodded. She didn't think that Hermione would choose that option anyway.

"The second option is for Mrs. Weasley to become your guardian." She looked thoughtful over that one, but didn't agree or disagree with it.

"What is the third option?"

"The third option is a little unorthodox." She nodded, begging her to continue. "Your third option is me." The girl looked stunned. Minerva briefly wondered if she'd gone too far. She feared rejection just as much as the next person, but it seemed so much more poignant at that moment.

"You really want me?" Her voice had lost its force and returned to its meekness. Her question, and the look in her eyes, said she was unsure if she should believe this particular option.

"Yes, I really do. I know that Molly is a good mother, and that she would take care of you very well. I understand if you would rather choose her…" A flying body suddenly coming to rest in her arms cut off the rest of what she was going to say.

"I choose you." It was the first happy moment for Hermione, since the evening before. It felt wonderful to be granted that small control of her life, as it seemed like everything was spinning away from her. She snuggled deeper into her favorite professor and mentor's arms, feeling the warmth and comfort surrounding her. Minerva placed soft kisses the top of her head, much the way her mother had done when she was sick, or hurt, and in need of comfort. She rubbed small circles on her back. It was so soothing when everything else felt like she was being shredded.

They sat that way for what seemed like hours before a knock sounded on the door. The Headmaster joined them in the chair that Hermione had previously occupied. Both ladies turned to look at him, his grim features once again making him appear every one of his many years of age. He sighed softly seeing them there. He loved his wife so dearly, and Hermione was the type of girl that he wished they could have had.

"I have some contacts in the Muggle world, for situations like this. I have contacted a solicitor who specializes in the affairs of children. I am gathering that have chosen Minerva to be your guardian." She nodded. "Good. We will take you to meet with the solicitor this afternoon, and tomorrow there will be a court date. You've been excused from your classes for the remainder of the week. Your assignments will be waiting for you when you are ready. I'm sure Minerva would be happy to help you practice, and when you're settled, professor Snape will allow you to use your free period to catch up on your missed lessons. Is that satisfactory?" She nodded again.

"Very well then. Let's have some breakfast." Sitting with the Headmaster and her new guardian/favorite professor allowed Hermione to relax and forget for a short time. She could enjoy just being, instead of enduring the constant ache that had taken up residence in her chest.

Later Professor McGonagall escorted her up to Gryffindor Tower to gather her belongings for London, and some fresh clothes. Hermione showered and charmed her hair into tame ringlets and put on some jeans, a t-shirt, and a hooded sweatshirt. She felt the tears prick her eyes again over the sweater. Her mother had picked it out for her. It was black, with bright white letters on it that spelled out "Who's Magic?" on the front. It was their private joke. She choked back a sob as she packed a set of nice clothes for the court date, as they would be spending the night in her house, as well as a few other things she thought she would need.

Professor McGonagall waited patiently for her in the Common Room. She had shuffled the boys off to their classes, so they wouldn't be hanging around. She was thankful for that small measure of peace. Harry she could handle. She wouldn't have to say anything and he would understand. Ron would try to be a comfort, but would only stifle her because he really had no concept of loss. Professor McGonagall escorted her to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore met them with a portkey. He would meet then the next morning for her court date. Minerva, who was also familiar with the solicitor, Mr. James, led her up to his office once they arrived in the alley behind the building. The solicitor was an older gentleman with bottlebrush white hair and sea-foam colored eyes that held some restrained sparkle. She gauged this man to be one who laughed a lot and enjoyed his life as much as possible.

"Miss Granger, I'm most sorry for your loss. I wish we had met under better circumstances." Mr. James said gently. She nodded slightly toward him. "We have many things to cover with you, and they will not be easy. Are you ready, or would you like a few minutes?"

"Lets get it over with." She answered quietly. Her tone was breaking Minerva's heart. This was a girl who had no problems what so ever making herself heard, and she had been reduced to a barely audible whisper in her grief, as though anything louder would shatter her.

They discussed her parent's will, what she would like to do with the house, their business, as well as their various investments. They spent several hours at it, as she had to stop and re-compose herself many times. When they were finished, she felt shredded by the afternoon.

"Do you have any questions for me, Miss Granger?" He asked. She nodded.

"We have discussed all of the things to take place, but not one has told me how my parents died. Even the letter I received at school didn't say. What happened to them?"

"The report that I received states that they were in a car accident. It seems as though there were two cars, driving on either side of your parents. They boxed them in. It's unfortunately a common way to commit insurance fraud these days. But things didn't go as intended for the planners. Your parents tried to stop before they rear-ended another car, and managed it just, but there was a tanker truck behind them that could stop in time and it hit your parent's car. The impact of the truck killed them instantly. I'm so sorry, my dear." She nodded, tears welling out of her eyes. She could feel the sobs building again and turned to her mentor. The professor soothed the girl as best she could, holding her close and rocking her gently, rubbing warm circles on her back. Mr. James looked on in sympathy. Cases like Hermione's were always difficult because the child had no family of her own to turn to. She had no support system to get her through the worst part of her grief.

Professor McGonagall waited until Hermione's tears quieted before she stood them up to head to the Granger's house. Mr. James nodded at them, reminding Minerva softly that he would meet them at the Granger's house and escort them to the courtroom. She nodded and led Hermione out and back into the alley so that they could use the other portkey Dumbledore had given them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Metamorphosis Through Anguish**

**Chapter 3**

When they arrived at the Granger's house, Hermione unlocked the door and led Professor McGonagall into the house. It was a cozy Victorian home with two stories. It had a wrap around porch and a beautiful stained glass window in the door. The second floor held the bedrooms, one was rounded, tower like, which Hermione told her, was her own room. Her parent's bedroom was across the hall. It had large windows with a view over other half of the property. Hermione's room looked out over the front of the house. She led the Professor to the guest bedroom, next to hers, with a bathroom that connected the two rooms. It faced the back of the house. Minerva set her own bag down in the guest room and rejoined Hermione in her own. The girl was flopped on the bed, much like a discarded rag-doll, with her eyes closed. She had kicked off her shoes, but not bothered to place herself properly on the bed. She smiled sadly at the young lady before her. There was something special about Hermione Granger that tugged at her heart, and head since that first moment, when she called her name to be sorted. Besides Harry, she didn't think she'd ever been so proud to have a student sorted into her house. She only wished that Severus had been sorted in as well back when he first came to the school. His life would have been so much easier had he been. She sat next to Hermione, taking in the girl's tired features. She brushed a stray lock of hair off her face and Hermione turned to look at her.

"I've been remiss, Professor. I haven't thanked you for taking care of me. Thank you. I truly appreciate it. I'm glad that I have you." She said softly. Minerva nodded, giving her a small smile, before hugging her gently.

"You are always welcome, Hermione, and you may call me Minerva when we are not in the presence of other students." She nodded in acceptance. "Now, I know you've had a rough day, but it has been several hours since breakfast. Are you hungry?"

"I believe I am. Let's go down and see what's available." They made their way down to the kitchen and Hermione investigated the pantry and refrigerator. They made due with sandwiches. She took note of the calendar on the wall next to the phone and noticed that two of the days were not crossed off as her father did every evening when he came home from work. It was a Wednesday, the day that they worked half a day and went grocery shopping in the evening. Like everything else, her parent's had done the shopping together. They were always together, work, home, taking her to the train, picking her up, shopping, errands, and doctor's appointments, no matter what they went together. At that moment, knowing that they had died together was a small comfort to her. She let a soft laugh escape her as she turned face the puzzled professor behind her. She explained the track that her thoughts had taken, and Minerva smiled at her gently.

After their dinner, there was little that Hermione could find to distract her from her thoughts, so she didn't try. She allowed her mind to process all the information that had been piled on her in the last two days. She let her logical mind sort through everything and file it into the proper places it would be needed. She arranged the information that she needed or learned into files, like the filing cabinet her parent's used in their dentist office. Once everything was filed away, she felt cleansed and like she could handle herself better. Minerva had watched her during this process. The girl was so amazing in her thought process. Even without Legilimency, she could see the way her mind was working, sifting through all of the information and storing it, filing it away until needed. Her mind was like a vault, a very remarkable vault. There were very few people who could do what she was doing in those moments of silence. Minerva's thoughts once more turned to Severus and how similar they were. His mind worked in much the same way.

When Hermione had finished clearing her mind, she tried again to find something to focus on. She chose a book at random, off the shelf in the study. She really didn't care what it was, so long as it gave her something to focus on. She sat next in the floor next to Minerva's chair, her back against the elder witch's legs and opened the book. The words that greeted her were some of her favorites. She knew the book so well. Her father had read it to her many times when she was little and had listened to her read it to him over and over again as she was learning herself. The Selected Poems of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, sat in her hands, worn from years of use and deeply cherished. Minerva peeked over her shoulder to see what the girl had chosen to read. She smiled at the book. It was one of her favorites as well. There was something so vivid in the man's writing and something special in his obsession over the events he wrote about.

"Which is your favorite?" She asked softly. Hermione looked up at her, startled for a moment over the sound of another's voice in the room with her.

"I like 'Ulysses' and 'Mariana'. What about you, Professor?"

"Minerva." She chastised gently. "I like 'The Lady of Shalott' and 'The Charge of the Light Brigade'. 'Ulysses' is quite good too though. What other poets do you like?"

"Edna St. Vincent Milay, Rainier Maria Rilke, Poe, Shakespeare, and Keats."

"A good variety. I like Rilke as well. Have you read 'The Sonnets To Orpheus: Part 5'?" Hermione thought for a moment and nodded. She recognized it vaguely. She stood and wandered back to the shelf and picked up an equally worn copy of Rilke's 'In Praise of Mortality'. She flipped through the pages, until she came to the poem, near the center of the book.

"Erect no gravestone. Just let the rose bloom every year for him. For this is Orpheus: metamorphosis into one thing, then another." She quoted softly, coming to sit once again at Minerva's feet. She let the words sink into her, to cradle her in their comfort.

"I have always found comfort in those words, Hermione. I like to apply them to grief I have felt, because to me they say exactly what my heart has always needed as a balm. I know that losing them is so very traumatic, and you feel that loss keenly. It doesn't subside either. You learn to live with it, but it never really goes away. But what helps, I think, is believing that they are somewhere beyond, in a heaven of sorts, watching over you. Your parents will always be in your heart. They will always be with you even though you can see them. Remember that, my dear." She nodded, and layed her head on Minerva's knee, allowing herself to absorb what her new guardian had said, and tried to find some small measure of comfort in them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Metamorphosis Through Anguish**

**Chapter 4**

Mr. James arrived the next morning, early, earlier than either of the ladies had anticipated. He apologized for the time, but he wanted time to talk with them before they had to appear before the judge. Hermione nodded in her silent manner and went to make coffee and some breakfast. She came back with the pot, and a plate of toast slices and jam. Minerva watched her carefully. She had heard the girl, the night before, tossing and turning. She knew that she got very little sleep, even after she got up and sat with her until the gray light of dawn started to filter in the windows.

They chatted for a few minutes, before Hermione excused herself to get ready. She dashed up the stairs and out of site. Minerva heard the door to the girl's room close, followed by the bathroom door a minute later. Mr. James looked at the ceiling for a moment before returning his attention to her.

"Do you think she will be alright?" He asked uneasily. He'd experienced the wide range of emotions showed after the death of their parents, but Hermione Granger was very different. She showed outward calm in her person and her eyes as well. Like she was compartmentalizing until the appropriate moment to fall apart, most likely when no one was looking.

"I don't know Mr. James. Only time will tell." Minerva answered him, with a soft sigh. A moment later there was a knock at the door. She guessed it was Albus. He was supposed to join them in court. He strode in a moment later, and she had to laugh. Albus was flamboyant in his usual wizard's robes, but the bright purple velvet Muggle suit was too much for her. Albus looked down at himself and then back at her in question. She just waved him off, but a soft laugh from the stairs, brought his attention to Hermione covering her mouth with both hands to stifle her amusement. There was a small spark in her eyes that had been absent the last few days.

"Really Albus, one would think that you were trying to scare the judge with that get up." Mr. James said with amusement. Once again the Headmaster looked down at his suit and up at the people around him, this time with confusion on his face.

"I don't see anything wrong with it. It's the right style, is it not?" He addressed his question to Hermione.

"The style is fine, Headmaster. I think Mr. James was referring to the color. It's very bright. Perhaps a darker purple, closer to plum, or black would be better suited." She said it gentle, casting a quick look at Minerva. The elder witch nodded in agreement. The Headmaster sighed wearily.

"Very well. Minerva, if you wouldn't mind?" She nodded and pulled out her wand and waved it at the Headmaster. The suit's color darkened in to a deeper purple that looked black almost. The professor nodded her approval and Hermione gave a soft smile in return. Mr. James, though a Muggle, had been around Albus enough times to take everything in stride.

The left not long after that, piling into Mr. James' car, and he drove them to the courthouse. Before they entered, Hermione suddenly clutched at Minerva's hand in fear. Her thoughts ran rampant and she wondered if they would actually let her stay with Professor McGonagall. She wanted her to be her guardian, but the Muggle court may decide to put her in a foster home anyway. Minerva knew what thoughts were running rampant in her young charge's mind. She pulled the girl into a hug and tried to give her some measure of comfort. Mr. James looked on, but he too understood what was going through the girl's head. When Hermione had herself composed once more, they entered the courtroom. Albus and Minerva sat with her, sandwiched between them, just behind Mr. James. The court session began moments later when the judge entered.

The judge was a middle-aged woman with light brown hair, bordering on blonde and grey eyes. She had a gentle look about her. Once court was in session, the judge covered all the points that they had discussed in his office the previous afternoon. When that was covered, she called a representative of Child Services forward. A woman stepped forward. Hermione glance at her, but didn't like what she saw. The woman had hard lines around her mouth and tired eyes. Her attention was pulled back to the judge when her name was called.

"Hermione, the is Ms. Williams. She's with Children Services." The judge spoke to her as though she was a small child. She heard a throat clearing behind her and glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Minerva roll her eyes. "I'm afraid you'll have to go with her."

"I'd rather not." Hermione stated plainly, the forcefulness in her voice, reminiscent of her tone before the tragedy had occurred. "And I am not a small child. I'm 14. I am well aware of the place you would send me. I would like to go back to my school, its home to me anyway. And Professor McGonagall has offered to be my guardian, as I have no other family." Mr. James had stated these same facts to the judge only minutes before and had been ignored. The judge studied the girl. Her eyes were wide, and she could still see traces of grief in her face, but the girl's tone seemed to refuse argument.

"Where is the guardian?" Hermione gestured behind her to where Minerva sat with Albus. "Professor McGonagall, would you approach, please." Minerva stood and came to stand next to Hermione, taking the girl's hand. She looked up at her gratefully and she squeezed it in comfort. The judge studied them for a moment before she interrupted. "What are your qualifications?"

"Qualification? For what?" Minerva looked puzzled.

"For being a guardian to Miss Granger?"

"I have been around children most of my life. I am currently the Deputy Headmistress as well as a Professor at the school Hermione attends. I am her Head of House as well, and while I may not have children of my own, I am mother to all the children in my house while they are at school. I would like to be Hermione's guardian. She's already experienced too much change in her life these last few days, she doesn't need anymore disruption." Minerva was stern, and the judge studied her. This was a woman who would not give up, would argue for hours if that's whet it took to keep the girl. She loved the girl.

"How will her school be paid for, then? It says she attends a private boarding school."

"Her schooling will be taken care of by me." Albus stood up from his spot behind Mr. James. He looked a little odd with his long hair and beard, over his suit, but the judge nodded for him to join them.

"And you are?"

"Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster at the school. Her tuition has been paid in full. She can return without having to worry about that, or her materials. It would be a great tragedy indeed to lose such a bright student." Hermione who had been listening silently and holding onto Minerva's hand reached out and took his as well. He smiled down at her briefly, the twinkle in his eye most obvious. Minerva looked at him warmly, and with love over her head. The judge caught the look.

"Will you also be her guardian?"

"While Professor McGonagall and I are married, guardianship of Hermione is entirely up to Hermione herself." The judge looked at Hermione, who was in turn looking at the Headmaster in awe. She hadn't known that they were married, but nodded at him anyway. The look of joy that crossed his face, made her feel as though she had made the correct choice. The judge studied the girl again. She seemed quite happy with the couple as her guardians, and they seemed to love her. She nodded to herself.

"Very well, I grant guardianship of Hermione Granger to Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore." She slammed the gavel and smiled softly when the girl hugged her new guardians.


	5. Chapter 5

**Metamorphosis Through Anguish**

**Chapter 5**

They all returned to the Granger's house and settled in around the table. Mr. James discussed the issues left to resolve with them, occasionally explaining a point to Hermione, who was slowly returning to her normal inquisitive self. She still had a long way to go, but she felt as though she could breathe without a heavy weight on her chest. They talked well into the afternoon and when they finally stopped for a break, she asked if they were hungry.

"I'm going to take my leave, Miss Granger. I wish you well, and if you ever need anything, please feel free to see me." Mr. James offered solemnly. He handed her a business card. "I'll send the last of the paperwork when the sale of the house and your parents business is completed." She took the card and slipped it into her pocket before shaking his hand. She was grateful for his assistance. As her solicitor, he had made things go so much easier for her, but he had also been compassionate and considerate of her emotional state.

"Thank you, Mr. James, for everything. " He nodded and stepped out the door. Hermione returned to the kitchen to see Albus and Minerva waiting for her. "Right, dinner?" She asked. They nodded in agreement. "Ok, what sounds good? I'm afraid there isn't much in the pantry, but I could order out. There's a decent Chinese place that delivers, as well as an Indian restaurant I'm fond of. Do either of those sound appealing?"

"Indian? That sounds intriguing. Minerva?" The older witch nodded in acceptance. Hermione dug out a menu and handed it to them, before stating that she would be back in a few minutes. She dashed up the stairs to her room and dug out a comfortable pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. She wanted to be comfortable for the rest of the evening. When she came back down, Albus and Minerva had decided on a few dishes. Hermione nodded and called and placed their order.

That evening after they'd eaten and were settled in the library, Hermione's thoughts once more returned to her situation. She thought about all the things that her parents would miss out on. They would not see her graduate, nor would they see her acceptance letter to a wizarding university. They wouldn't be able to meet her first boyfriend, be there to give permission when her boyfriend decided to propose, or see her married. They would never hold their grandchildren. Her mother wouldn't be there to coach her through all the trials of her love life. Her father would never walk her down the aisle. The weight that had lifted before resettled on her chest again. She felt as though she was missing some great piece of herself, something that made up a massive part of her, that she was unsure how to live without. She had never realized how much she appreciated the type of parents she had until they were taken from her. Hermione felt tears start to prick her eyes, but willed them away. It wasn't time for her to cry. She needed to see the rest of the arrangements through, and then she could fall apart.

The next morning, Hermione rose early, before Minerva herself. Albus had returned to Hogwarts the evening before, after seeing the ladies were settled in for the night. She made coffee and toast and poured over the necessary funeral arrangement brochures. She chose to follow her parents wishes and have the cremated and interred at their family monument. It was to be a small service with some of their friends and her new guardians. She called the funeral home and discussed her wishes with a director and gave him the information needed to make the rest of the arrangements himself. When she was done, she sat back and allowed her mind to drift.

Hermione's thoughts turned to her friends at school. She wanted to let them know that she was ok, and that they shouldn't worry about her, as well as that she would be returning shortly. She also thought about how different things were going to be when she returned. She was already a different person for the one who was, only days before, laughing and carefree. She felt more subdued and more aware of her world. Perhaps it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She laughed to herself softly over a thought of Professor Snape. She wondered if he would notice if she suddenly stopped having her hand in the air for every question. Not that he would care, she scoffed to herself. He would probably raise an elegant eyebrow and deduct points from her house for her lack of response. However the thought of being different was appealing. Perhaps she didn't need to flaunt her intelligence that extent. Maybe it was time to grow up a little. After all she was going through an experience that would mature the most childish person to a degree.

Hermione's became aware of Minerva moving about on the floor above her and wandered into the Library. She had been given special permission by Albus, from the Ministry, to use her wand while she was taking care of her parents' affairs, so long as she wasn't brandishing it in front of Muggles. She conjured some boxes and began to sort through her parents books. She dropped her father's classic literature into one box, as well as her parents' dental and medical texts. Next came the poetry books, the encyclopedia, and her mother's science fiction and fantasy books. The few books that were left were some of her mother's romance novels and a few books that Hermione herself had read, but not enjoyed to an overwhelming extent. Those were set aside for donation. She sealed the box and shrank it to fit into her pocket. She glanced around at the furniture. She loved the loveseat and wingback chairs in the library, as well as the desk, so she conjured another box and shrank the furniture into it. The kitchen table followed it. She levitated it up the stairs and into her parent's bedroom. Their bed was a very nice ebony wood four-poster bed with a matching vanity, dresser and wooden chest. She took the sheets off the bed and shrank it into the box. The nightstands, chest, dresser, and vanity were emptied and shrunk into the box as well. A soft clearing of a throat brought her attention to the doorway.

"I see you've started already. Would you like my assistance?" Hermione pondered the question for a moment before nodding. She wanted to do it on her own, but was becoming slightly tired. She had been expending a lot of magic for one so young, despite her obvious power.

"Please. I don't think I can keep this up for much longer." Minerva nodded in acceptance. She had suspected as much.

"What would you like me to do?"

"Would you shrink my mother's clothes into a suitcase? I would like to keep them, with the exception of her under things, of course. I'm almost finished with this. " Minerva nodded and wandered into the closet. A suitcase waited on a top shelf for use, so she pulled it down and began folding and shrinking Mrs. Granger's things. Hermione sorted through the things that were in the dresser, nightstands, vanity, and chest. She set aside the majority of it to be donated, because like her parents, she abhorred clutter. She kept her mother's perfumes and jewelry, her father's cufflinks and pocket watches. Their rings were already on a chain around her neck. The chest had contained two faded quilts and the spare sheets and pillows for her parents' bed. She left those things in there and sealed up the box of furniture. She would be leaving the rest, with the exception of what was in her room. She would pack those things separately. She shrank that box as well.

Hermione entered the closet to retrieve the smaller suitcase. Minerva was finished with the closet and levitated the suitcase out to finish packing her mothers things. She looked around the closet at her father's sweaters and jackets. She sent the sport coats, suits, slacks, and jeans into the donate box. She kept his button down shirts and sweaters, knowing that she would happily use them. Even before her parents' accident, she'd been known to steal one of his shirts, or a sweater for a day. Her father had always laughed at the way she made them look like a dress and her mother would smile and roll the sleeves up for her. The memory made her heart feel light and heavy in the same moment. When she was finished, she returned to find Minerva sitting in the floor, waiting for her. She flopped down next to her guardian and sighed a defeated sigh, closing her eyes laying flat against the floor.

"Tired?" She asked the girl.

"Yes." Hermione answered.

"That's understandable. You aren't used to expending that much energy in one go, not to mention, you're so young, you have built up your magical reserves so to speak. But I must say, that you did very well, to do as much as you did." Hermione looked up at her mentor with a soft smile. "Come, let's finish the other rooms. I'll supply the magic, you tell me what to pack." She nodded and hoisted herself up from the floor, before offering a hand to help up the older witch. They finished with the house and cast a few well placed scourgify charms, just in time for the realtor to stop by with the for sale sign and to take pictures. Hermione and Minerva waited outside in the backyard for the lady to finish. She felt the sadness start to creep over her again at the thought of leaving the house she'd grown up in. It held so many memories for her and she was reluctant to part with that security, but she knew that she would never be able to live in the house again, not when her parents were gone. It was too much. The realtor retrieved them, stating that if the house was priced reasonably, they shouldn't have any problem selling the house in a timely manner. She also asked about the furniture that was being left in the house. Hermione told her to sell it with the house, but that it wasn't needed. The realtor nodded. Minerva and Hermione made a quick check through the house one last time for any forgotten items. They left the keys with the realtor and walked a short distance away from the house and any prying Muggle eyes, before they portkeyed back to Hogwarts. The rest of the arrangements would be taken care of through Mr. James.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: For those of you who are still reading this, I'm taking a poll. I originally said that there would be a romantic twist and that Hermione would find love in an unexpected place. So I'm going to leave it up to the readers as to which person it is. Your choices are: Harry, Remus, Sirius, or Severus. I'm sorry Ron and Draco fans, but I just don't like either one. And you don't even want to get me started on Viktor. So there you are. Tell me which on you want.

**Metamorphosis Through Anguish**

**Chapter 6**

They arrived back at Hogwarts that afternoon. While Hermione was still feeling the loss of her family, she was happy to return to the school. It had become her home more and more as the months went by. It was where her friends were, where she learned, and while she loved her parents dearly, they had never fully understood the world she had entered.

Minerva and Albus, as the insisted on being called, ushered her into the Headmaster's office. Albus had met them at the gate and walked with them, into the castle. He'd been a little surprised when Hermione had taken his hand. While she was a very mature thirteen-year-old girl, she still had her moments when she couldn't quite overcome the childish impulse to hang onto the limbs of an adult for protection and reassurance. Dumbledore had smiled gently at her and squeezed her and softly. She suspected that he was enjoying the feeling as much as she was since he'd never experienced being a parent for himself.

He spoke once she and Minerva were settled.

"Hermione, I know that you've made the arrangements for your parents' funeral already, but is there anyone you need to contact, friends, distant cousins?"

"No, both my parents were only children and the few friends that they did have will be contacted by the funeral home."

"Very well. Would you like Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley to accompany you?"

"Please. Would it be ok for Professor Lupin to accompany us as well?" He nodded, smiling gently at her. There was something oddly comforting about Remus. He was very good at keeping the children calm, as well as putting them at ease.

"I'll let him know. Anyone else?"

"No." She answered.

It took about a week for the arrangements to be completed. Mr. James had contacted Professor Dumbledore to let him know that everything had been finalized with the exception of the sale of the house and the Granger's dental practice. Dumbledore had in return told Hermione, who by that time had gone back to residing in the dorms of Gryffindor tower.

Hermione's classmates had asked after her since her return to the tower, often times to the point where Harry and Ron felt the need to interfere, shooing everyone away from her so that she could breathe and attempt to finish her school work. She was thankful for her friends and for Professor McGonagall. Their support made everything that much easier. By the time the weekend of the funeral arrived, Hermione was ready to hex anyone who so much as looked in her direction, even Ron. Harry had been a silent supporter, waiting for her to come to him and just being there for her. But Ron had begun to exhibit his mother's overdeveloped smothering tendencies, along with his sister Ginny. She was well and truly tired of them both, especially when their brand of comfort did absolutely nothing for her. They simply couldn't understand what she was going through the way that Harry could. The night before the funeral she approached Minerva about staying out of the dorms for the night, just so that she would have some peace. The professor had readily agreed.

That evening Hermione did her best to distract herself from the impending funeral. She worked diligently on her homework to get it done, but her heat really wasn't in it. She allowed her thoughts to turn to the holidays and beyond to the summer. It would be her first Christmas staying at Hogwarts and her first summer where she didn't take a trip to somewhere exotic and wonderful with her parents. It was disheartening and she felt tears beginning to form in her eyes. She wondered what other thins they would miss out on, like her graduation from Hogwarts or a wizarding university, her marriage, grandchildren. The list went on and she felt so much sorrow, it was like a lead balloon had been inflated in her chest.

Professor McGonagall was in the staff room, looking over student assignments. Usually she would work in her office, but she felt the need for a change of scenery. Her attention was focused on an essay submitted by Hermione. It was the precise length needed, well written, and factually excellent, but there was nothing of the girl's personality in her work, something that had started to peek through more and more, but had suddenly disappeared. It was as though losing her parents had killed her spirit. She knew that it was too soon to expect more from Hermione, as the girl was still grieving and adjusting to the most recent change in her life, but she hoped that it was only temporary.

She looked up with the door to the staff room opened, admitting Poppy and Professor Snape. The sight itself was not unusual. Severus trusted few people and Poppy, Albus, and herself were most likely the only ones. What shocked her was the appearance of Remus Lupin behind them, also engaged in the conversation. She had hoped that whatever animosity Severus held for the man, it would be resolved once Remus took the teaching position. And for once it seemed Severus had decided to follow her hopes.

They greeted her politely and returned to their conversation. She listened with half an ear as she reread Hermione's essay. Remus interrupted her musings unintentionally by mentioning he girl's name.

"Hermione's work is as good as ever but something is lacking." He said quietly.

"That is understandable. She's not herself right now. Perhaps after the funeral things will be better." Poppy answered. She, while not as smothering as Molly Weasley, had a well-developed mother hen complex. It was what made her such a wonderful healer.

"I have to agree with Remus. Her work is precise, but lacking in personality, or personal flair. At this age, we should be seeing more of her potential and less of the recitation. And I was seeing it emerge before the accident. I sincerely hope that this set back is only temporary." Minerva interjected. Severus, who had said little up to that point, finally responded.

"While it is a refreshing change of pace to have the homework I requested be exactly what I requested, I too find it odd that Miss Granger's work has suffered. To my knowledge she has never had any problems before, despite various trials."

She'll adjust in time." Poppy said resolutely.

"For her sake, I hope so." Came Remus' reply.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Poll results so far are: Sirius – 2, Severus – 0 (although there was one vote for Severus as a friend), Remus – 1, and Harry – 2. I'm still taking votes for the pairing, for at least another 2 chapters, so please let me know which one you would like to see. Thank you!

Metamorphosis Through Anguish

Chapter 7

The day of the funeral dawned cold and bright. Hermione was already awake despite the early hour and decided that she could no longer lie in bed. It hadn't brought restful sleep or peaceful dreams so she showered and dressed. She decided that since she was awake, that she might as well as make sure the boys were awake, as they were accompanying her to the funeral. She shouldn't have worried. Remus had also risen early and was waiting for her in the common room with the boys in tow. Harry was awake, his green eyes already sad. Ron was still sleepy eyed and grumbled at Remus without actually saying anything coherent. She felt a small smile ghost across her lips at the sight of them. The boys hugged her quickly and climbed out of the portrait hole to go to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Ron, as usual, tried to eat his weight in food, while Harry and Hermione had only toast. She knew that she wouldn't be able to handle more than that, not with the lead feeling that had settled in her stomach the night before. That coupled with the view of Ron shoveling food into his mouth; put her off food for the most part. Professor McGonagall met them in the Entry Hall with Professor Dumbledore and they port-keyed to the alley behind Mr. James office.

Mr. James had called for a limo to take them to the funeral home. It arrived moments after they did. The boys and Remus amused themselves like children with the many function of the long car. She was too tired and held too much grief in her heart to find such simple enjoyment in their ride. As they arrived at the funeral home, a man with steel gray hair came out to meet them. His name was Kendrick Wells, the man she'd spoken to over the phone when making arrangements for her parents. He showed them to the chapel and introduced her to the priest who would be conducting the service.

The funeral passed so slowly for Hermione. She just wanted it to be over. There were flower arrangements all around and boxes of tissues placed in strategic areas for use. It was so cold in the chapel, but she was unable to tell is that was the funeral home itself, or the coldness that had settled in her heart. The few friends her parents had arrived one by one, filtering in and giving her a pat on the shoulder or a hug. They were sympathetic and constantly invaded her space to touch her hair, or her cheek. She hated their overly familiar attitude when in truth the barely knew her or her family. The priest seemed to go on and on, trying to summarize the life of her mother and father, without knowing who they were. She felt like her eyes were filled with burning coals, so hot were her tears, and her cheeks stung, not only from the cold, but also the salt of her tears, that seemed never-ending.

By the time the service itself was finished, she was ready to collapse from emotional exhaustion. Her parents' friends disappeared one by one until she was left with the Professors and her own friends. They all stepped away to give her some space and time to say a final goodbye to her loved ones. She approached the coffins, closed because of the accident, and placed a hand on each one. She felt more stinging tears fall from her eyes, landing with soft pats on the carpeted floor. The hollow feeling in her chest expanded and she felt like a dead tree, bare of its leaves, rattling in the wind.

When they returned to the castle, Hermione thanked Harry and Ron for coming with her, as well as Remus. She asked Professor McGonagall if she could spend the weekend in the rooms they kept for her. The Professor agreed, albeit reluctantly. She knew the girl needed some time alone, but was still worried over her.

Hermione spent the rest of her Saturday afternoon looking through her parents' photos and books, wandering from item to item as if they could bring her parents back to life for her. She wore one of her father's shirts, and sprayed on a bit of her mother's perfume, trying to reconnect with the warm, loving couple who had raised her. On some deep level she knew that she hadn't been as close to them since coming to Hogwarts, and that they had let her go knowing full well that they could lose her to the world she had entered. Hermione sighed over a picture of her parents at their wedding. Even though the photo never moved, she could tell that the minute the picture had been taken, her parents had returned to looking at one another. She only hoped that she could find the same amount of joy with her future husband as her parents had experienced with each other.

The weekend passed quickly, and she returned to her dorm, once more to brave the throng of sympathizing students. Before the week was out, she had the distinct impression she was going to blow a gasket over someone. She was still grieving, but she could feel some of her grief fading, giving way to anger. She knew the stages of grief; she was well read after all. But she hadn't really followed the pattern. She already knew her parents were gone, and that bargaining wouldn't bring them back, but she could feel the anger rising in her. She hoped that when she finally lost it, that she wouldn't hurt someone seriously, unless it was Malfoy, as the little rat deserved it most of the time.

Thanks to her time tuner, she was able to avoid most of it until after dinner when everyone was once again in the common room. She was reading over her potions essay for errors when Lavender Brown approached her. They shared a room with each other and Parvati Patil, and why Lavender chose that moment to speak with Hermione, she would never know, but she felt the irritation start.

"Hermione?" Lavender called, sitting next to the other girl.

"Yes, Lavender?" Hermione answered distractedly.

"Are you feeling ok? You haven't said much lately, well less than usual."

"I'm fine, thank you." She didn't know why the girl was asking, as she had never bothered to care whether or not Hermione spoke before.

"No, you're not. You know you can talk to me about anything."

"I'm really fine. Now please leave me alone, I'm trying to finish my potions homework." She gave a small shake of her head. As if she would ever tell Lavender anything, about anything. It would be all over the school in a flash.

"You know throwing yourself into school work isn't the way to deal with your problems. I was reading this article in Witch Weekly…"And that was when Hermione lost what little control she had. The rest of the common room, who had looked up when Lavender approached her, watched the next events with the same fascination and horror that one might observe during a train wreck.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Nothing this time. Enjoy!

Metamorphosis Through Anguish

Chapter 8

Lavender never knew what hit her. One moment she was trying to be a good friend, and the next Harry and Ron were pulling Hermione away from where she was lying on the floor. She didn't even realize she'd been hit with a spell. She never heard the other girl say a word, nor saw her move her wand. She coughed a few times, trying to get her breath back into her lungs and sat up.

"What did I do to deserve that?" She finally asked. "I understand that you're upset, but that's no reason to take it out on me!"

"You have no idea what I'm going through! You can't deal with what I'm going through by reading an article in fucking magazine. You don't understand that my heart has been ripped to shreds, that I will never see my parents again. I lost both of them. I have no family anymore. I am alone!" Hermione practically screamed at the other girl. Red sparks began to shoot from her wand, as tears started to course down her cheeks again. She had just wanted to be left alone to do her homework, and now she wanted to hurt something, anything, and Lavender had been a convenient target for all the hell she had put her through.

Harry and Ron were still holding her back, shocked to hear such words falling from her lips. The Hermione they knew was not one to swear, but this wasn't the Hermione they knew. This was a grieving girl who had just lost the most important people to her. She shrugged them off and started out the portrait hole. She couldn't stand the looks on the faces of the other students. Ron called after her, but she ignored him. She knew the Harry would keep him from following her. She just needed some space to calm down.

Hermione wasn't really paying attention to where she was going. She knew she should turn around and go back to the common room as it was very close to curfew, but she couldn't make herself face them again while she was still so angry. She had her head down as she turned the corner and ran into something warm and solid. She didn't look up to see who it was. She didn't want to know. She backed up several steps, and apologized. She heard nothing in return. She glanced up finally, to see Professor Snape standing before her.

"I'm sorry sir. I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking. It won't happen again." She answered backing up a few more steps to give him plenty of room to sweep around her. But he didn't. She was very surprised to feel his hand under her chin, raising her eyes to meet his.

"You are upset." She nodded, swiping a hand at the tears on her cheeks. "You are upset with someone in your common room." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes sir. I'm afraid I rather lost it with Lavender Brown. She and I don't get along at the best of times, and I'm afraid this is not the best of times. I will apologize later, but I had to calm down before I did more than flatten her to the ground for a few seconds." She cringed as the words came out of her mouth, knowing that she could get into serious trouble for drawing her wand on a fellow student.

"Miss Brown is not known for her tact. I can still see the anger in your eyes. Come with me." He turned and started toward the stairs. She didn't know what was making him so polite, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Professor Snape led her up the stairs to a blank wall. He paced in front of it three times and a door appeared. She let out a small gasp. If he were one to laugh, he might have over the castles ability to astonish the girl who supposedly knew everything.

"This is the Room of Requirement. It only shows itself to those in need, and a few who know where to look." She looked around for a moment, taking everything. There were rows upon rows of vases and statues. They looked breakable. He gestured for her to go ahead, but she didn't understand what he meant, so she wandered through the pillars with busts on them. He let out a small sigh.

"Come here." He called, and she came out of the maze of sculptures. She looked at him expectantly. "You are angry over the misfortune and tragedy that has befallen you. Miss Brown brought that to the surface. So use your anger to fuel your magic for a little while. Break them until you feel better." He gestured toward the nearest bust.

"Are you sure? I mean don't want to destroy something like that."

"That is what I use this room for, Miss Granger. We all get angry. This is one of the best ways I know how to let it out, without strangling Mr. Potter, that is." She laughed a little but looked away. "I'll break the first one." He pulled out his wand and sent a bombardment charm zooming at the first bust. It shattered raining particles everywhere. "Go on."

Feeling the rage simmering under the surface, bubbling up, she pulled her wand and started to fire spell after spell. She wanted to destroy the whole room full of breakable things. She knew that it wouldn't bring her parents back to her, but she felt so out of control when it came to everything else in her life, it was almost divine to exhibit this small amount of control over the objects in the room. It was by her will that the stayed together or were shattered into tiny fragments. She was breathing hard by the time she had broken everything in the room. It felt good to be so drained of energy and of her anger. She sat on her knees, regaining her breath. Professor Snape squatted in front of her holding out a goblet of cool water. She wasn't sure why he was being so tolerant of her, but she would enjoy it for the moment.

"Do you feel better, Miss Granger?" He asked softly.

"Yes, thank you." He nodded. She didn't know what made her feel like she could confide in him, but she started speaking, and couldn't make herself stop.

"The other students don't really understand. A few of them, like Neville and Harry, get it, but everyone else is really out of the loop so to speak. They can't comprehend the feeling or the grief that goes through a person. To them an 'I'm sorry' and a 'feel better soon' can cure everything, and it can't. When I yelled at Lavender for telling me not to bury myself in my school work, I was so angry because she didn't understand. But she can't understand unless she goes through what I've been through and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. What I don't understand is why she bothered in the first place. It's not like we're friends, or really even like one another. All she does is annoy me."

"Miss Brown has a propensity for gossip, and thought that you would be an ideal target for her. I'm afraid you still gave her something to gossip about by pinning her to the floor. No doubt she will exaggerate everything. She and Mr. Malfoy are rather alike in that respect. How did you pin her to the floor?"

"I don't really know. I was just looking at her and thinking that I wish she would just fall over and stay there long enough for me to either control my temper or get away from her. I hadn't drawn my wand at that point, and I didn't get my anger under control. I remember seeing that she was on the ground, and I pulled my wand and was going to cast a body bind on her, but Harry and Ron grabbed me and pulled me back. How did I pin her to the floor if my wand wasn't out?"

"Wandless magic. It happens with younger students, usually only with first years, unless something emotionally stirring happens, like you pinning Miss Brown to the floor, or Mr. Potter blowing up his Uncle's sister." She nodded and was silent for a few minutes.

"Why are you being so caring, Professor? I appreciate the gesture, but it's not exactly your M.O."

"I am not the mask I wear, Miss Granger. I too have been where you are. Come, I will walk you back to your dorm." She nodded, and felt a new found respect for the professor who had up to that point ignored her. She hoped that she would this side of him again. It was too soon to hope for a friendship, but a little tolerance had gone a long way.

Professor Snape walked her to the door of her common room and made sure she was in.

"Miss Granger, next time I will not be so lenient for assaulting a fellow student. Use the room, not your classmates for your anger." She nodded and he let the portrait close behind her, before making his way up to see the Headmaster and Minerva.


End file.
